Fate: Tempered Nerves
by Grafian
Summary: Several years after his adopted father's death Shirou encounters a certain magus passing through Fuyuki. After she recognizes what torture he has inflicted upon his nerves, she takes him in as her student, leading him to join her in her life on the run. Right up until a 20 year old Shirou Emiya suddenly finds himself with three Command Seals, forcing him back home to Fuyuki...


**Author's Note**

* * *

Hiya folks. This story was an idea I had been playing around with for a while now. I absolutely love the idea of Shirou's makeshift Nerve Circuits becoming a permanent thing (all credit goes to **CrossyCross** with his wonderful Nerve Damage story) and I had a few other prompts and failed starts written out in my story folder. This story could be seen as an amalgamation between those. I generally like the idea of a Shirou that's... well... Capable. Expect a Shirou that's less dense and suicidal than his canon-counterpart, with more tricks up his sleeve due to _actual_ training.

To accommodate what I've planned out for this story, the Grail War itself starts three years later, in 2007. The characters are all a little older and more capable to hopefully add some more kick to the various angles I want to develop. There will be some Original Characters, but characters from the original Fate/Stay Night series will have the main focus.

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fate/Stay Night.**

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**Chapter 1**

* * *

It was with a wry smile that the twenty year old Emiya Shirou walked through his old neighbourhood. It had been a little over four years ago when he first met his teacher and left on his long journey. While still horribly inept in any magecraft linked to specific elemental affinities, his apprenticeship taught him much. At first he had been reluctant to leave his life behind. His lovable, if childish guardian/older sister Fuji-nee and his shy best friend Sakura, his once upon a time underclassman at Homurahara High School, were his biggest reasons for wanting to stay.

But due to his teacher's... unfortunate circumstances - and her somewhat abrasive personality, no doubt - there was no practical way for Shirou to stay at home in Fuyuki while apprenticing under her. And his own rather unique condition needed a lot of guidance. His adoptive father Kiritsugu had done his best to teach him what he knew of magecraft, but it was an understatement to say he was a lousy teacher. And yet, due to the old man's failure to see Shirou's grueling method of practicing magic, he got to the point where he was today.

Shirou _never_ activated his innate Magic Circuits. Instead, every time when casting a spell; be it a shoddy Reinforcement with an iffy chance of success, or a half-assed projection, a searing pain not unlike stabbing a red hot, iron poke into his spine was present. After his father's slow and agonizing death when Shirou was only twelve years old, Shirou vowed to take up his old man's ideals. To become a hero where he had failed. And to do that, he would need to at least become a half-way decent magus. Night after night he spent in his makeshift workshop, straining himself to perform even the most basic Reinforcement magic.

And one day, as he pushed himself further and further with what he assumed was normal for magi, creating a Magic Circuit, something snapped. Or rather... Set into place. Having fainted due to the intense pain and strain on his body, it wasn't until the next morning that he realized something was different. _He_ was different. After performing a Structural Analysis of his body, he found something odd. The Circuit he created that night _was still there_. He could tell it was degrading, but at such a slow pace that it would take weeks before it would lose its form and become unusable as a Circuit.

He had jumped in joy, ignoring the searing pain coming from his tortured body. Unwittingly, Shirou had done something incredibly stupid - and altogether unheard of. He had converted part of his nervous system into a Magic Circuit. By flooding that one specific spot in his body with all of his Prana and on a whim having Reinforced the concept of its stability for it to be more capable, he had slowed down the decay rate enough to make it negligible. That night his first _Nerve_ Circuit was born. A process he repeated every night since, gradually getting used to the pain to the point where it was little more than a sharp sting to the horribly distorted boy.

As he felt the familiar and welcoming sensation of the bounded field around the Emiya-estate wash over his body, he couldn't help but shake his head in amusement thinking back to those days. Little did his younger self know that makeshift Nerve Circuits were only seen as a last resort to actual magi. A dangerous practice, with a fifty-fifty fatality rate. A magus was born with a predetermined number of Magic Circuits after all. While his father had explained to him that he possessed an above average amount of Magic Circuits - totaling up to twenty-seven all in all - for a first generation magus, they were only at a shoddy E-rank. As such Kiritsugu had never expected too much of him when it came to magecraft - while Shirou assumed that was the limit of Circuits he could create.

By the time his teacher found him, those Magic Circuits were atrophied and degraded due to lack of use and activation. "E-rank...? Perhaps when you were little. If you were to activate them now, using them would be suicide, kid" - or so his teacher had bluntly stated after analyzing his body.

Chuckling to himself, Shirou shook his head. Oh well. As far as his teacher knew, Shirou was a unique case at this point in time. Permanent Nerve Circuits were unheard of after all. Every night for nearly four years, he had created another Nerve Circuit. Cannibalizing more and more of his nervous system to function outside of what it was supposed to do. After a thorough scolding and a not-too-gentle beat down, he was told _never_ to create more of those shoddy Circuits than he currently had.

While the human body had countless nerve cells, converting them to Circuits meant they could no longer be used for their original purpose - even after the Circuits themselves degraded. After his pained grunts and disillusioned questions, his teacher explained that if he had kept on doing what he did, eventually he would probably have lost most of the feeling in his body. He had been lucky she had stopped him before that point... Instead, after ample testing (which was a whole different kind of pain) he was instructed on how to best Reinforce and enhance the Nerve Circuits he had already created. While in practice they functioned more or less the same as regular Magic Circuits, they were fundamentally different.

Normal Circuits could be 'trained', as it were, to slightly improve in output and quality over time. Although the changes were superficial at best and were mostly done by magi to _just_ cross over into a higher Circuit-ranking. Because his Nerve Circuits were actual, physical conduits for Prana, they could be Reinforced and Altered, just like anything else. It had been a slow-going and painful process of trial and error, but today, the twenty year old Emiya Shirou was the proud owner of just over a thousand Nerve Circuits. They had found they still degraded over time, but a monthly, nightlong Reinforcement session was enough to fight back any degradation, and sometimes even slightly increase their effectiveness.

Due to his unique Element and Origin - both being 'Sword' of all things - he had little, to no affinity with most branches of Magecraft. And yet he found that with practice he could excel in forms that didn't rely on one of the regular, Elemental affinities. Structural Grasping, Reinforcement, Alteration, Bounded Fields, Runecraft and Projection were the branches his teacher had had him focus on - although out of the six, Reinforcement and Projection were his true forte. He truly loved practicing them. As essentially a living 'Sword' with a 'survivor's guilt motivated hero-complex' (as his teacher often pointed out) it was no surprise he reveled in martial arts centered around blades, and after some bickering and more than a little nagging, she had started finding tutors for him whenever they stayed in or around a single location for longer than a few weeks. It didn't take him long to learn how to properly make use of his magecraft in that field of interest either.

It was during one of those spars with an eccentric, Brazilian swordfighter, that Shirou had felt a burning sensation on the back of his hand. To his confusion, he found a blood red tattoo in three parts - distracting him long enough to get a mighty whack to the head as punishment for looking away. When his teacher reluctantly informed him what they were for, it didn't take him long to book a flight back to his hometown. The stage of the fifth iteration of a bloody battle waged between magi and Heroic Spirits from the past. The idea was unnerving and outlandish, but then again... What wasn't in the world of magi? When he realized that horrible fire that cost him his memories of his childhood, and the lives of over five hundred others, was a result of the fourth Holy Grail War, his mind was set. _This_ was what he had been training and preparing for, even if he didn't know it until now. The Grail chose him to participate, despite not even knowing about it's existence. He wouldn't let something like the Fuyuki Fire happen again.

"I'm home..." he muttered to the dark and dusty living room where he had shared so many meals with his makeshift family. Perhaps Kiritsugu, Taiga and Sakura weren't his relatives by blood, but even after all these years he had never stopped seeing them as anything but family. While they hadn't had a chance to come back to Fuyuki, he had kept in touch with Taiga and Sakura over the phone every few weeks. Even if contact had dropped a little over the past year. For a moment he contemplated visiting them, letting them know he was back. But should he? He had come here to fight a secret war after all...

Fuji-nee would be far better off not realizing he was back, as she always found a way to wurm herself into any situation. Dropping by the house like a wrecking ball twice a day to be fed like the always starving tiger she was. And Sakura... His shy and reserved underclassman, and arguably best friend, was a _Matou_. His teacher had few decent words to spare for the Matou. An ancient line of magi, with a foul and secretive form of magecraft. He could only hope that his teacher was correct in her assessment that the Matou-bloodline was devoid of any actual magical potential at this point. Sakura had never once given any hint she even knew about magecraft, so he felt safe in assuming she wouldn't and shouldn't be a part of this either.

Sighing he checked the lights, and was relieved to see Fuji-nee's grandfather - head of the local Yakuza-family - seemed to have made sure the place was still in a fine condition. "I still have a few hours until the ideal time for the summoning..." he mused aloud as he stored his suitcases into his bedroom and made his way to the kitchen with the groceries he had bought beforehand, intent on making a late dinner.

He had brought a few days' worth of groceries with him in advance, so he wouldn't have to leave the safety of the estate before having summoned his Servant for the Holy Grail War. His teacher had warned him that it was entirely possible that some, if not _most_ masters in the war had already summoned theirs by now. He had begrudgingly promised to not take any unnecessary risks and do something foolish, such as walk around without his Servant in Spirit form beside him. He had had extensive training and he was confident he could stand his own in a fight against magi, but against legendary warriors... Had this war happened a few years ago, he would most likely have jumped straight into the fray, but now... His teacher had done well to beat any overconfidence out of him in their spars, after all.

She didn't often show open affection for him, but he knew she was concerned for his well-being. It just wasn't in her nature to wear her heart on her sleeve, and that was fine with him. He could tell she wanted to accompany him to Fuyuki and watch his back, but an event as large as the Holy Grail War was always bound to attract some eyes that she'd rather keep off of herself. As such, he had been more than willing to agree to the conditions she set for him.

Most of the time after a quick dinner was spent adding extra safety features to the bounded field around the Emiya-estate, as devised by his teacher before he left for home. The field already placed by his father years ago was strong and nigh undetectable from outside it, but it was only a warning system; there were no actual defenses in place. "Time to change that..." he muttered to himself, as he started on the first of several dozen strengthening and alteration Runes around the courtyard.

* * *

Once more she heard, or rather, _felt_ the call. After her previous master betrayed her at the end of the Fourth Holy Grail War and forced her to destroy the Grail when it was so close to her. So near her grasp... Her wish could have come true, if only... Why? Why had he done that? Had he just been sadistic? They weren't on the best of terms during the war. He had only seen her as a tool, after all. Barely speaking as much as a full sentence to her, relaying his messages through his wife Irisviel. But he had seemed honest in his intentions. He had desperately wanted to fulfill his wish, going so far as to sacrifice his own wife to achieve it... So why...?

Again, the call sounded, louder this time. She knew she could deny being summoned, but pushing away the thoughts of her former master's betrayal, she reached out and accepted yet another chance at fulfilling her wish. At saving her people.

She felt her body taking shape. Everything was once more white. As the light started to dim and her vision slowly returned, she found herself looking at a hazy figure a few meters in front of her. She steeled herself and stood proudly with her hand to her side in a traditional Knight's salute.

"I am servant Saber. I have come in answer to your summoning. I ask of you, are you my master?".

As her sight became clearer, she found herself looking at a strange man. He was tall and well-built. Despite his black trenchcoat, she could tell as much. Combat experience perhaps? Uncommon for a magus. His appearance was... odd, although she had to admit, he was somewhat attractive, despite his strange features. His hair was mostly red, with streaks of white running through it as if he was greying early. She guessed him to be in his early twenties. While he looked Japanese, much like her former master, his skin tone was a tad darker. An odd complexion.

But his most striking feature by far, were his amber-coloured eyes. They almost seemed to shine golden in the fading light of the summoning circle as they peered into her own emerald orbs. She could see the resolve in them, which was not dissimilar to Kiritsugu's, although these were much... warmer. Not empty and dull, but blazing with strength and conviction.

Their bond was strong, indicating the summoning had been a success, although she felt only a small amount of Prana being transferred through it. While her face remained in it's neutral expression, inwards she grimaced. He seemed capable, but due to the limited amount of magical energy she was receiving, she would not be able to fight at full power for long. That could prove to be a hindrance in their efforts to win the Grail...

The man gave her a soft, if somewhat confused smile after a few seconds, as he stated "I am indeed. It is an honour to meet you, King of Knights". He followed his greeting with a customary, Japanese bow, before rising to look at her once more.

She nodded, but before she could comment on him knowing her identity, despite not exactly fitting the legends left behind from her time, nor there being any catalyst present to summon _her_ specifically from what she could tell from a glance around the summoning circle - his voice grew somewhat hesitant as he let out a good-natured chuckle. "Although, I would much prefer it if we see each other as partners in this war, instead of master and servant".

Arturia held back the urge to raise her eyebrow as she slowly nodded, face held impassive as she calmly replied "Very well, master, if that is your wish".

They both stayed silent for a few seconds, before the man hesitantly said "I will admit, I did not expect King Arthur to be a woman".

She couldn't help but frown as she felt a little irritation well up inside of her. Irisviel had assured her that her former master did not look down upon her being a woman, but he had seemed visibly disappointed by the fact. Would this magus be the same in that regard?

Clearly having noticed her expression, he hurriedly added "Not that that is a problem, mind you! I was just a little surprised, that's all. Might I ask your name?".

She hesitated for a few moments as she scrutinized him with her gaze, but as he seemed sincere, she stated "Very well. In life I was known as King Arthur, yes, but my true name is Arturia. Arturia Pendragon".

* * *

To his slight shame, the first thing he thought when the Projected copy of Avalon he had used as a catalyst faded and the light of the summoning circle died down, was 'She's... beautiful'. To say he was surprised that the legendary King Arthur was a woman, was an understatement. But he supposed it wouldn't be the first time the history books made a mistake, right?

The regal figure of the Knight in front of him was not at all diminished by the fact she was a good head shorter than him. She radiated a powerful grace that was more than befitting of a moniker such as 'the King of Knights', and while she held no weapon, her gleaming silver armour atop her blue and white battledress, while simple, was elegant in its own way. Made for battle.

Her beautiful blonde hair, radiating almost golden in the afterglow of the summoning, was bundled together in a bun at the back of her head, with bangs framing the sides of her face like a lion's manes. A single strand of hair stood up atop her head, an ahoge, which amused him the slightest bit. It somehow made her seem... cu-. 'No. Head out of the gutter, she's a Knight. A King!'. He thought for a few moments as he looked at her. _Really _looked. 'She looks a few years younger than me... How...'.

Shaking away his thoughts, he couldn't help but stare into her emerald eyes as he glided across them. They gleamed with a proud intensity, and yet he couldn't help but feel saddened by them. They were... dull. Her eyes reminded him off his old man's, when he lost himself in thought. Only later did he learn from his teacher what his father had done for a living before he adopted him. 'The Magus Killer'... Much like his, the eyes of the King in front of him were laced with pain. The eyes of one who had lost everything.

He was more than familiar with the stories of King Arthur, the Knights of the Round Table and Camelot. Ever since his teacher informed him what that golden light he could sometimes find inside himself by structurally grasping was, he had brushed up on what he could find on it and its original owner. King Arthur.

After their first meeting, he wasn't _quite_ sure what to do next. It was already late at night, and he would need to register his participation with the overseer at the Fuyuki Church before anything else, but that could come the next morning. He led her into the house, out of the shed. As they entered the living room, he scratched the back of his head, when an idea hit him and he snapped his fingers.

"We should go over our strategy for the war, before anything else. Tomorrow morning we can go see the overseer, no point in disturbing his sleep. First off, I could go for something to eat. What about you, Arturia?" he tried hopefully. If there's one thing he could do, it was cooking, after all. And nothing breaks the tension like sharing a good meal. Much like his father and Fuji-nee, his teacher was appalling in the kitchen, so he had been happy to resume his familiar kitchen duties whenever they had an actual kitchen to work with during their travels.

When the Knight calmly stated that "Servants don't need to eat, master. We only require Prana to sustain ourselves" he waved it away. This was awkward. They perhaps hadn't gotten off on the best foot, so this would be a golden opportunity for a better start. She seemed to reluctantly agree as he pushed on.

As he walked off into the kitchen, after urging her to take a seat at the table in the meantime, he quickly added "Oh, by the way... As I said, I don't really see myself as your 'Master', that just sounds wrong to me. We're partners after all. My name is Emiya Shirou, but just Shirou is fine".

He missed the apprehensive look she shot towards his retreating back as he mentioned his family name.

* * *

Shirou watched with satisfaction and poorly hidden pride as Arturia cleared her plate with the grace of a true King, before she politely inquired after a second course, which he happily provided. While he was more than glad that his plan to break the ice with the stoic and reserved King of Knights by cooking dinner seemed to have worked, he would need to recalculate how much supplies they were going to need the next few days... Heroic Spirits don't _need_ to eat. So where does it all go?

With a small smirk he put down a second plate for Arturia, and tea for the both of them. He patiently sipped from his cup and waited for her to finish, before the both of them settled down to discuss their plans and strategy for the war. While he felt that a Knight such as her would agree with his motivations, he still felt that it was only right to lay it all on the table anyway.

After a quiet sigh, he started hesitantly. "I'm going to be honest with you, Arturia. I have no desire, nor a wish that I believe the Grail could grant me. When the command seals appeared on my hand and my teacher explained what they meant, I only decided to participate to minimize innocent casualties, which will be my focus for this war".

She nodded slowly to his statement and spoke in a calm voice. "While I as a Knight _can_ and _will_ support your goal, and I realize you may not have a wish, ma-... Shirou" she corrected herself with a sigh before continuing "But I do. And as my ma-... _summoner_, in accordance with the contract we made, we are to strive to win this war and achieve the Grail".

Her eyes turned a little colder as a slight frown started to show on her brow. With a voice that could cut through steel, she asked him "While you may not truly consider yourself a master in this war, will you not hold up your end of the contract?".

"Like I said, Arturia". Shirou took a deep breath as the corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile despite her scrutinizing gaze "We're partners in this war. I expect you to help me achieve my goal, and I will in turn do everything I can to help you achieve yours. Not to mention that by doing so, I prevent someone who might have less noble intentions of having _their_ wish granted".

She seemed to eye him carefully, before her lips formed a genuine, if small, smile as well. "Then our contract is hereby truly struck, Shirou". His own smile grew a tad wider as he held out his hand for her to shake. As she grasped it, a question suddenly popped into his mind. Curious, he asked her "Say Arturia, if I might be so blunt, what _is _your wish?".

As her small smile instantly faded and her eyes returned to their former, duller shade, he immediately backpedaled "It's personal, I see. Well, I don't need to know. I think I can trust that it is something noble, coming from the King of Knights".

She gave him a hesitant and thankful smile. 'I wonder, what regret would cause her to participate in a ritual such as this?' he asked himself, although no answer would reach him for quite some time.

They soon agreed to stick to the intended cease-fire during the day, and go out at night to patrol and seek out other servants. Shirou insisted that any servant or master who involved outsiders was to be dealt with first, to which Arturia agreed without much issue.

As she could see Shirou getting visibly more tired, the clock striking close to two at night by then, she voiced her greatest concern in regards to their chances in a hesitant voice. She could honestly say she was starting to like her new master. He may have been family to the one that betrayed her, but she could see that his kindness and concern for others was genuine. It felt almost wrong to point out a wrench thrown into their plans.

"Shirou... I feel I should inform you that, while the summoning seems to have gone without much issue, as our Master-Servant bond seems to be strong, I am barely receiving any Prana through it. My own reserves are substantial, but I will have to seriously pace myself, as well as the use of my Noble Phantasm, Excalibur, if we don't find an alternate source of Prana for me...".

Shirou blinked a few times in confusion, before he chuckled. Arturia visibly showed her confusion by raising an eyebrow and asking in a somewhat irritated tone "Is something about what I said funny to you, Shirou?".

Sighing, he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and stated "Well you see, I burned through quite a bit of Prana during the... preparations of the ritual, and more so during the summoning itself. There seemed to be no noticeable pull on my Prana, so I turned off all but a handful of my Circuits to give them some rest. Here, how's this...".

As he activated a hundred or so of his Reinforced Nerve Circuits he waited for Arturia's reply. And waited. And waited... She just stared at him. Hesitantly he asked her "I-is something wrong...? This really only is about a tenth of my output, I could activate more if that would he-".

He cut himself off when he noticed the stoic King's mouth was loosely hanging ajar by an inch or so. Her emerald green eyes were looking at him with something akin to bewilderment gleaming in them. Blinking a few times in confusion, he was about to ask once more what was wrong when her calm voice, completely at odds with her incredulous expression, interrupted his thought process.

"Shirou... I do not wish to misunderstand you about a crucial aspect regarding your abilities this early into our partnership" she started before quietly taking a deep breath. "Did you just state that you are currently supplying me a tenth of your total Prana output?".

He was a little taken aback. He knew he wasn't exactly a standard magus, but he had grown rather proud of his Nerve Circuits their output. Apart from his dying and mostly magically inept adoptive father, and his prodigy teacher, he couldn't say he really knew any other magi. Had he overestimated himself that much?

Hesitantly he started "W-well... Yes. I mean, safely I could output ten times what I'm currently transferring to you, if only for a limited amount of time... I-if it's not enough I could maybe match fifteen times? But I'm not sure if I would come out of it unscath-".

The blonde saber abruptly held up her hand to cut him off, to which he acquiesced. He waited patiently and nervously as she once more took a deep breath. "Shirou... With what you're currently providing me, most all of my Class Statistics are at A-rank or higher". Her deadpan stare into his eyes unnerved him a little. As he stayed quiet, unsure of what to say, she continued "I wasn't so much implying it wasn't enough, as I was wondering whether you were lying to me to seem more capable... But... From what I can tell you aren't".

Shirou blinked a few times in surprise before he said "Well, no. I mean my Circuits work a little differently from other magi, and I haven't really met many others... So I can't genuinely say I have that many examples to compare myself to... But yeah in short as a kid I kind of accidentally cannibalized part of my nervous system to create physical Magic Circuits, since I didn't realize you needed to 'unlock' your actual Magic Circu-".

He once more cut himself off as he watched her incredulous stare.

* * *

He once more let out a deep sigh at the blonde kneeling on the futon he had laid out next to his, staring straight at him with a curious look in her eyes. "Is something wrong, Shirou?".

He stared back at her for a few seconds, before he stated in a deadpan voice "I can understand why you want to be in the same room while I sleep. It makes sense from a strategic point of view, for you to be able to better protect me at night. I can live with that. It's reasonable, if a little uncomfortable...".

She immediately, calmly shot back with a slight frown and her arms crossed "As I said earlier, there's no need to feel uncomfortable. I am a Knight before I am a woman. And even more, I am a Servant, a _weapon_ to win the Holy Gr-".

Frustrated and slightly annoyed by his lack of sleep and her stubbornness, he covered her mouth with his hand before she could once more start _that_ discussion. She glared at him and continued talking, although her voice was adequately muffled by his hand. "Once again, Arturia. Stop saying that. I realize you're a Knight and this isn't something romantic, so there's no need for it to be awkward. I agreed, didn't I?" he asked her.

Her muffled ramblings stopped and she tentatively nodded. He carefully removed his hand, and seeing her seemingly stay quiet, he was about to continue, when she took the opportunity to continue again. "Indeed it is not, Shirou. So why are you not sleeping yet and making this more difficult than it needs to b-".

Once more he covered her mouth with his hand as her frown deepened while she did her best to speak up a little louder. Luckily, his hand still adequately muffled her arguments. He waited for her to calm down again to remove his hand, although she was visibly ticked. After a deep sigh he stared her deadpan in the eyes and said "How am I supposed to fall asleep when you're staring at me, _sitting_ on your futon. If anything It's just making me feel guilty that I get to sleep, while you're sitting there, keeping watch".

Her frown lessened a little as she relented somewhat, unsure of what to retort with. He sighed once more and got up. She watched him with a curious look as he walked over to his closet and rummaged through it for a few seconds, before he pulled out one of his older shirts and handed it to her. It was a few sizes too large, even for him, so it should be large enough for her to use as a makeshift sleeping gown.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning what he was doing. With another sigh and a barely held back groan of frustration he said "Here. If you want me to get any sleep at all, and be fresh and alert tomorrow _night_ as we go out on our first patrol of the war, you're at least going to lie down". Seeing she was about to speak up in protest he quickly silenced her.

"_No_, we aren't going to get attacked tonight. Nobody even _knows_ I'm a master yet, nor has the war officially started. And even if we were attacked, I Reinforced and upgraded the bounded fields today. If even a whiff of magical energy comes near the estate, both of us will hear an alarm inside our heads and we'll be ready to engage them at a moment's notice".

At that she reluctantly relented and he showed her to the adjoining room so she could change. As she disappeared behind the sliding door, he fell back into his own futon with a content sigh. Perhaps he would finally be able to sleep. As he was already starting to drift off, the sliding door opened once more. The sight instantly jarred him right back into consciousness.

With a calm expression, Arturia walked back into his room and slid the door shut again. He blinked a few times as he looked at her. Her hair was let loose out of the bun she had been wearing up until that point and it was loosely hanging along her back and shoulders. Most of her almost snow-white legs and arms were exposed. He vaguely wondered how _anyone_ could look so composed and regal only wearing an old, oversized shirt, but she managed to do it.

Seeing him look at her with what must have been wider than normal eyes, she tilted her head a little and calmly asked him "Is something wrong, Shirou?".

To his shame, he realized he audibly swallowed as she got into the futon next to his and laid her golden hair down on the pillow. Her inquisitive green eyes peering into his, seemingly examining him to find out why he had fallen quiet. Realizing this, he hastily stumbled over his words as he felt his face unwillingly heat up.

"E-eh, no! Nothing's wrong. N-nothing at all...". Mentally slapping himself in the face, he recomposed himself as best he could and gave her a small smile "G-goodnight, Arturia" before turning onto his other side away from the beautiful image on his other side. It need of course not be pointed out it would take some more time before sleep finally claimed the young master.

* * *

While she liked sleeping as much as the next person, even in life she had required very little of it. At least since she became King. First Caliburn, and later Avalon restored her body and kept her healthy and ready at most occasions. She rarely slept longer than three hours a night, and even that was more to placate Gwen's anxiety that she would outright work herself to death one day.

And yet, while she found his reasons mind-boggling and insufficient, she felt she had to at least meet him halfway. They don't have to share in all of each other's views and beliefs, as long as they found a middle road to work together, after all. Having lived as a man for the larger part of her life, she found his reaction when she came back into his room wearing the sleeping attire he had provided... odd.

A few moments ago he had been all frustrated and insistent that she at least lie down. And she had to agree that sleeping or even just lying down in the dress she could shift into from her enchanted armour with naught but a thought, would be highly uncomfortable. She was grateful he at least provided her with suitable attire. As his face started to visibly heat up and he stumbled over his words, she _slowly_ started to realize what was going on.

Minutes after he had turned around, and stayed completely still, faced away from her, her face too heated up. He... He was... Because of how she looked! She had never dealt with this before, never having slept in the company of others, save those who knew and guarded her secret with their lives. Quietly, she too turned around to face away from him, suddenly self-conscious about how she was dressed. And yet part of her was berating her newfound shame for being unbecoming of a Knight.

But most of all, it was berating her for that tucked away feeling of victory. He had been stunned into a stuttering mess, a far cry from the confident and annoyed man that insisted she lie down only minutes before - _by her!_ A guilty smile curled across her lips as sleep slowly claimed her away for the night.

* * *

_He felt... content. At ease. Some might have been frightened by the sight around him, but not Shirou. This was his world after all. The visualization of his identity. Gentle grass swayed in an ever-present, pleasant breeze. He sat atop a gently sloping hill. Gazing out at the serene view around him. It was always at the cusp of dawn here, where time held no sway over the sky high above him. On one side of the always cloudless and star-filled sky, he could see the light of the morning sun slightly cresting over the horizon in the distance. The hill, the only elevation in this endless expanse, casting a long shadow. _

_Turning his head to the other side, he marveled once more at the large, crescent moon. Half sunken below its own, distant horizon. He shifted his head away from the breathtaking sky, to the landscape around him. Stretching out from his hill, were countless gleaming veins. Vines. Roots. Nerves... They seemed to always be in a state of flux. Contracting, expanding and shifting in the distance. Like a web stretching out in all directions as far as the eye could see into the endless expanse of gently swaying grass. Connecting a vast number of monuments. Weapons he had 'Traced' as he called it. His own unique branch of magic based on Structural Grasping and Projection. _

_Gleaming in the morning light on one side, and in the white light of the moon on the other, swords of all kinds of make and design - as well as pole-arms, axes, hammers, shields and even armour pieces. His teacher traveled the world. Always on the move, never staying in one place for too long. He always had considerable freedom when they stopped somewhere, and he had made a point of visiting as many museums, expositions - even an actual swordsmith once, when they were staying in Jerusalem. They were all here, in his world. His vast armory. Deep down he knew they were but copies of the originals. Fakes. But to him... _

_To him they were monuments. He felt no pride in owning them, as he gazed at shining metal and sturdy wood from atop his hill. No. He felt... humbled. He had visited so many museums in these past years. This was his. And every embedded piece of weaponry and armour was on display. He felt no pride in owning them, because he deserved none. That pride belonged to those who forged them. Those who wielded them in battle. He was humbled, and he hoped this was an appropriate way to honor them. Their own place in this infinite expanse dedicated to craftsmanship and battle._

_The gleaming roots, almost seeming to be made of molten, silver steel connected them all to him. With the slightest impulse he could call them out, here, in this place. Everything was at the tip of his fingers. Waiting. Eager to be wielded once more..._

_The hill itself was home to his most prized collection. Or rather, his most powerful collection that was kept close at hand. Nearly two dozen Mystic Codes - enchanted weapons and equipment - that his teacher either acquired, or made for him to Trace and use. While he favoured the long history of some of the weaponry he Traced from museums and the like, those were essentially mundane items. Wholly incapable of being more than mere nuisances to strong, battle-hardened magi and other threats._

_One item stood out, however. Respectfully placed in the center atop the hill, was an ornate, blue and gold sheath. It radiated a power of its own. A faint, golden glow that was ever present in this world. It being his most powerful possession, he had started using it to practice the limits of his Projection magecraft ever since his teacher identified it. Even though he was capable of Projecting a near perfect replica due to his body's familiarity with it, he knew he would never understand it. An artifact crafted by the Fae. Avalon, the Everdistant Utopia. The legendary sheath of King Arthur - or rather... Arturia - that was said to grant its rightful wielder nigh insurmountable protection._

_Every time he found himself in his world in his dreams, or consciously during the day, he couldn't help but gaze at it. It was beautiful, for lack of a more fitting description. He had held it in his body for as long as he could remember, not knowing who or why it was implanted into him in the first place. And while he could not make use of its full abilities, due to not being its rightful owner, it did give him a slightly accelerated healing factor. His teacher had once stated it was probably due to Avalon, and Avalon alone that he had not died from creating all those Nerve Circuits..._

_Once more he tried to Trace Avalon, as he always did, hoping to gleam something more about it. And yet, once more, the true details and workings of it eluded him... Even now, with Arturia herself staying under the same roof..._

_As his thoughts drifted off to that regal King of Knights he met only hours earlier, he couldn't help but feel an immense amount of respect. And... sadness. The dullness of her eyes when she was first summoned. Her stiff composure, the mask she wore to hide herself. He could tell there was more to her than just that. A few times, such as during dinner, the true Arturia seemed to shine through. _

_As his mind drifted further off, wondering about what her life must have been like, the hardships and challenges she must have faced as King, an image slowly started to form. An ornate gold and blue sword. He tried to focus on it as his thoughts moved from her specifically, to it. What was this sword? Was it hers? She hadn't wielded one when she was summoned. Could she call upon it when she needed it? The picture became clearer, less fuzzy as his own world started to fade away. _

_It was embedded into a large stone and off in the distance, he could see a small figure approach. Golden locks gently swaying in the light breeze. Emerald eyes gleaming with determination and the slightest bit of apprehension. _

_She didn't speak, but somehow he could tell. She wasn't questioning the personal consequences of pulling this sword - "Caliburn" as a whisper seemingly from nowhere rolled into his mind - but rather, her worthiness. Wasn't there someone better? Was an apprentice Knight such as herself truly the most worthy? Merlin had said so... But now... Now she would find out for sure..._

* * *

Blinking a few times to uncloud his eyes, it took him a few moments to realize where he was. His old bedroom. Vaguely catching the light coming in through the window, he could tell it was just before sunrise. He had always been an early riser, even more so after joining his teacher in her travels. She was always wary of being found by other magi, ever vigilant. Waking up early in the morning came only natural with a life like that. One particularly tense morning in Peru sprung to mind. Waking up with an Enforcer of the Clock Tower standing over your bed wasn't particularly pleasant. Realizing you were being used as bait by your teacher as the figure was blown straight through one of the room's walls moments later was even less pleasant.

There was a comfortable warmth covering the right side of his body, and for a moment he wondered when his blanket had gotten so heavy. And then his vision stopped blurring as he looked at the innocent expression displayed on Arturia's sleeping form. The tense, rigid mask she had worn ever since being summoned was gone. In its stead, he found himself staring at a girl, a woman whose hair was gently draped across his neck and chest, with her head resting on his shoulder. She weighed surprisingly little as she lay on top of his arm, while one of her legs just lightly touched his.

Her soft breathing spread a comfortable warmth a little ways across his chest as he laid there, unmoving. He wasn't sure what to do. He knew she would most likely be embarrassed when she woke up, but he couldn't for the life of him do anything to disturb her peaceful slumber. She looked as if a visible weight had been lifted, even if just for the briefest of moments. A gentle smile spread across his face as he let out a content sigh. He could get used to waking up like this.

Catching himself in his thoughts, he inwardly shook them away and proceeded to try and start shifting his arm out from underneath her. A few seconds into the daunting task, he suddenly realized her gentle breathing had stopped. When he looked back at her face, he found himself looking straight at two emerald eyes. There was some confusion in them, before they shifted to look at where she was lying. Understanding and embarrassment quickly replaced her initial, groggy confusion as she froze up and her face took on a slightly more red tint. It looked rather cute, if he was being honest with himse-.

"Good morning..." he said as calmly as possible, as he forced himself to stop his train of thought. She blinked a few times, before she cleared her throat and gracefully untangled herself from him and sat upright. "G-good morning, Shirou" she replied. He was somewhat glad she didn't seem inclined to discuss their unplanned, night-time intimacy, as he got up and excused himself to go freshen up to escape the somewhat tense mood.

* * *

Arturia quietly groaned as she mentally chastised herself for her actions. Even if they hadn't been conscious, she had practically wrapped herself around him in her sleep! It didn't matter that her current master didn't actually see her as a Servant, but as a person as he had repeatedly informed her of the previous night, it was still wholly unbecoming of a Servant, nay, a Knight such as herself. She let out a deep sigh as she contemplated what to do about the situation. He seemed equally as embarrassed, so she could probably just ignore it? Yes. That would definitely be best...

As she gathered her thoughts and settled down, she looked around her new master's bedroom. It was mostly empty, with undecorated walls and little more than a dresser and futons. Next to the door, however, stood a large suitcase. She had noticed it the night before, but she had assumed it contained clothing or something of the sort. Now that her master had taken another suitcase with him when he went to freshen up and change, she started to get curious as to what was inside.

She realized it was unbecoming of her to just rifle through her master's belongings, but the longer she stared at it, the weaker her resistance became. After a few minutes, she couldn't help herself. She could always close it again after taking a peek, after all. And if she found it to be filled with explosives, guns and whatnot, the tools of her previous master, she would at least know that she should be wary of him.

With those thoughts of caution steeling her resolve, she gently clicked open the latches - only to be greeted by two golden eyes fluttering open and staring straight at her.

"Onii-chan?".

* * *

**Author's Note**

* * *

There you have it, the first chapter of Tempered Nerves :) Any thoughts, comments, critique on it so far? I've got the next chapter halfway done, with most of the story outline finished as well. Expect regular updates!

**If you're interested in reading more of my stories, please do check out my profile page! There you can find my 'Fate Salvation' (80k+) WIP fic, which I will be updating again this month (Chapter length aimed at 20k, currently halted on 12k for CH6). On the same day as 'Tempered Nerves' debut, however, I will also have published chapter 1 of 'Shared Ideals' - my second 'Fate' fanfic, making this my third. I will be rotating between these three stories this month, possibly picking up one of my SAO fics again in September.**


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